Your efficiency and briskness
Hurts me
Even though I know you are busy,
I feel curt dismissal
Like a sharp knife.
You are probably being
Your usual practical self.
But somewhere I detect
A sentiment and warmth
That doesn't seem
To reach your eyes.
Have I failed you
In some small
Monumental
Tragic way?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem